Wherefore art thou (The Balcony)
by flowersaretarts
Summary: The premature "I love you" might feel cheesy, but that is no excuse for being an asshole. Vyvian has to patch up his own mess.


It happened accidentally

They already used to engage in bodily pleasures, tongue plays, baths, but not a word was said.

They stood by the window, in each other's arms, sharing the last fag. Until Peter felt he couldn't help but mutter the wrong word. The stupid word. he said he loves With, which made Withnail furious. This is not how he wanted it to be.

He pushed poor Peter's face away and poured all his venom out, saying he won't take any of those plebeian shit ; for Withnail, words were too important, and in his mind affection must be expressed in poetry or music or touch.

He exploded. Peter didn't look at him second time. He quietly went to the staircase where Danny was trying on his new clogs

He saw Marwood taking out a cigarette and swallowing smoke

it's too dark

"Family melodrama?" asks Danny

Marwood inhales. Doesn't say a word.

: "I could recommend you a nice mix, soothes broken hearts, man. Keep your cool."

"Take me somewhere, Danny"

The man removed his shades. Peter apparently meant business.

"I can't stay here anymore. Please. Anywhere, any squalor, any crusty hole"

Danny dug his pocket, heard the coins tingling, but that didnt convince him.

"Gimme two shillings, man"

As fast as he could, Peter stuffed his suitcase with clothes and notebooks. No time to think. Withnail has already gone downstairs and locked himself in his bedroom.

Marwood put on his coat and ran to the corner, where Danny was screaming at the receiver

"Dave, my man. Only a few nights. Skin's broken. I have something for you, best selection. Deal? Ciao."

David was their mutual drama school pal. His posh parents left him a gargantuan Victorian flat which became a cross-breed of a hippy commune and a zoo on a bad day.

The living room contained no less than 20 people. They were listening to the vynil records, rolling joints, laughing like gorillas.

Peter gave weak smiles to those he knew and shook Dave's hand.

"I'm warning you, man, the only bunk you can find is in the bathroom"

"Good enough for me", Marwood responded. He didnt want to see or hear anyone.

Still being sensible, he hid his stuff further away from the vandals got down on the mattress next to the wall, behind a huge bath and turned his back to the world.

His ears were numb. His senses faded, the glass of scotch Dave gave him did a good job.

He didn't have to get legless. He was stricken enough, so sleep came soon,

He didn't know how long was he sleeping. He woke up next afternoon: a wasted couple was trying to have a bath, forgetting the law of displacement, the water splashed on the matrass and all over the unfortunate Peter. Cursing, he got on his feet and went to the living room, stepping over the unconscious bodies. Dave's party was a success, obviously.

He pushed a snoring young hippie off the chair and decided this be his throne,

then got undressed and hung his clothes on the chair, sat down and grabbed the first book within his reach: "William Blake" it said. He stuck his nose into poems.

He spent the hectic day among sober, drunk, crazy, prophetic, political, artistic characters.

Two ladies were making advances on him, but he was too snappy and cold, so they left him alone.

where to now? He thought. Back to parents? Great. No one can live with that shame.

Looking for a new flatmate...he doesn't have a penny to pay rent.

Cigarette after cigarette, glass after glass.

Writing down some obscure metaphors into his blue notebook.

The night came, the infernal ball commenced.

Saturday night, the worst for a sleeper, especially if you are in a swampy bathroom on a green mattress soaked in soapy water and someone's fresh afterlove.

"Pete!"

Marwood opened his eyes.

"What is it?"

"You should look at that"

"What time is it?"

"The fuck you need the bloody time! Go to the balcony"

Peter rose and waddled following his friend to the living room.

Dave's guests were giggling and cheering someone. Someone loud. Someone loud enough to make his voice reach the insides of the flat.

"It's the Spine. He's totally arseholed"

Spine? Withnail is here? How did he know? Bastard. Fucking Danny. He'll pay for it.

Everyone laughed

Withnail was there, in the street, in his coat, wild-eyed and wound-up, flailing his hands like a demented windmill. Peter didnt want to look. Didn't want to hear him. But Dave and Mike and some girls pushed him towards the balcony rails. Vyvian was yelling

"O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial"

"It's midday, you bloody fool!"- shouted David at him.

But Withnail was too carried away

: "A thousand times the worse, to want thy light"

He noticed Peter looking at him

He took a breathe.

Then went on louder, trying to keep the stare

"Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books"

He went down on his knees.

"But love from love, toward school with heavy looks!"

His reciting was met with applause and laughter, some passers-by were less amused, someone might have called the police. But they were nothing to the madman in a grey overcoat kneeling on the pavement, looking up at the balcony. The place where Peter stood a moment ago.

He was gone now.

Vanished into the dark of the room. This didn't stop Withnail: he jerked his swiveling body up and rushed to the railings, started climbing up. Manic. The young people grab him by the coat, and help him in.

He kept calling for Peter and went into that little bathroom

Peter lied on the mattress, curled up in a ball. Confused, teary. He thought it was a joke, Vyv's taking the piss. Yet Vyv was deathly serious.

"I need to see you"

"You are bloody looking at me"

"You must turn"

"Must I", Marwood responded.

Silence. A young girl tried to peer into the room, but Withnail uttered a diabolical "GET THE FUCK OUT", and the poor thing disappeared with a squeak.

The door was shut. Two men, a lightbulb, a bath and a mattress.

Marwood laughed like a psychopath.

This started pissing Vyvian off.

"We must be back. Our landlord is there,I can't do it without you.'

"I am thoroughly amazed", Peter turned his head

"For a landlord you climbed all the way like a fucking chimney boy?"

Silence.

They both knew why he climbed. Both hesitate. But Peter was steadfast this time. He wanted to stand his ground, and live or felt so much tenderness towards this wreck, but he couldn't cope with the humiliation.

He managed to produce his best steely glance. The one that got him a role of a commanding officer before.

Withnail took it, he had his standards. He didn't fancy surrendering. The balance of his universe was disturbed, he wanted everything back. They stared, in rage, in pain, clenching their fists.

Marwood finally said, "Fuck it. I don't need it"

Turned away.

"I shall return later and deal with the landlord. Go home, Withnail."

Two long arms grabbed him, holding him in a grip. Withnail was clinging to him. squeezing his friend in a reptile hug.

"No", he muttered.

Marwood didn't resist, yet didn't respond.

Withnail whispered.

"I am sorry."

Peter lowered his head, trying to hide his emotions.

"It hurts, With."

"Sorry, is it too tight?"

"I hurt."

No more words. He took the sweet pale face in his hands, looked at his friend, the one he wounded. Another sorry was uttered before his lips are on Peter's.

Marwood sobbed silently, hiding his face in his worst friend and best lover's arms

They almost fell over, stumbling on the mattress

"What the fuck is this?" asked surprised Withnail

"My king's bed"

They snorted. They giggled. A pack of cigarettes came out.

"How come this bastard owns a bath bigger than ours?"

"Withnail, no"

"I am open for a challenge. We are not leaving without this tub,"

"You're insane!"

Withnail grinned.

"Get Davey stoned and dismantle this bastard. We shall carry it home"

"You're such a tool!"

Another wide grin from Vyvian. He was in great mood by then. Grabbed his little partner with both hands on the buttocks and lifted him onto the window sill. Shocked at first, Marwood smiled back and let the wry sleeky git kiss him into the oblivion.


End file.
